


The Final Letter

by ar_xx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Anxiety, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Era, M/M, Sad Ending, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ar_xx/pseuds/ar_xx
Summary: 'please, I can't live without you'When two rivals are revealed as soulmates, it is like playing with fire. Through feelings of hate, love, satisfaction, and despair, only one will survive. The question is, who will get burned in the end?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 12





	1. PROLOGUE

"Stop. It isn't your fault."

"But you don't understand. It is my fault. This is my fault. It's all my fault. If I hadn't- You don't understand." Tears streamed down his face as he made his way into the room.

"No, you're not prepared. He's still-"

"Still what?"

"You're not prepared," was the quiet response.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco woke up bright and early the next morning, mind still foggy from last night's endeavors. He remembered bits and pieces; the shining lights, the beautiful ball gowns, the food, the party crasher, the searing pain. The one that left him in this state, convulsing on the floor until he passed out from the throbbing in his left arm. He tried to sit up but found his body to be too weak to keep him upright, consequently falling back, his head hitting the hard marble beneath him. With his right hand, he reached toward his leg, which appeared to be broken, or at least severely sprained, wincing as he touched the yellowish-brown skin. And this was found all over his body, bruises blooming on every square inch of him.

A touch to his face told him that he had been crying, which set off the alarms in head. Malfoy men don't cry. He suddenly felt a wave of emotion that disappeared just as quickly.

"Strange," he muttered to himself, though he found it hurt to talk. A touch to his jawline, feeling the dried blood that covered his chin and throat, brought back all of the memories from the previous night.

He saw it clearly now. The gala had been spectacular. Chandeliers hung from the 30 foot ceiling. The room, which was bigger than his wing in the Malfoy Manor, with solid gold walls and a cold marble floor. Paintings that had been passed down for generations decorated the room. The many tables piled high with expensive food. Though they did make it hard to run away.

The second Voldemort came into the room, everyone felt it. They felt the chill that suddenly overcame them. Draco remembered asking his father why all the people ceased dancing, talking, and laughing. His father didn't answer except to point at the tattoo on his arm. Draco was confused at the time, for why would Voldemort crash a simple gala? His answer came soon enough as the Dark Lord talked to a few well-known Death Eaters before booming, "Where is the boy? Where is the Malfoy boy?"

Draco's heart dropped into his stomach. Why was the Dark Lord looking for him? Could it be punishment for another one of his father's failed tasks? Panic started threading its way through his body, until he was unable to breathe. Voldemort was coming closer, finally spotting him in the crowd.

He heard the hushed whispers of his parents who were standing behind him.

"We have to let the Dark Lord take him Narcissa, it's what he wants."

"He's just a boy. I am not letting him become a part of this. He is too young. We must protect him," was his mother's frantic response.

"We must do what we need to please the Dark Lord. I have failed yet another mission."

"So you're willing to kill your son? Your only child?"

"Whatever it takes Narcissa."

Draco's heart was hammering in his chest as Voldemort drew nearer. A hand grasped his own and he saw his mother with wild eyes.

"Run," she breathed into his ear.

So he did. He ran. If only the room were a little smaller. If only he were closer to the door. If only Voldemort wasn't one of the most powerful wizards of his time. Draco weaved in between the small circular tables, almost tripping and falling, into the hands of the Dark Lord.

Draco was almost there, almost to the door when he heard a screech. He turned around right before he realized his mistake and a hex hit him in the jaw. Blood started pouring out, coating his expensive dress robes.

As the Dark Lord approached, Draco tried to take off in a run again, but his leg caught a pulled out chair and he crumpled to the floor, blood still pouring out of his jaw.

"Look what we have here," Voldemort said sneering. "How dare you disrespect your leader," he spat, his saliva mixing with the blood gushing from Draco's face.

All Draco could do was wince in pain, tears leaking from his eyes as he tried to look at Voldemort.

An evil smirk spread across Voldemort's face when he realized Draco wasn't going anywhere soon. "Bellatrix, clear everyone out. I have some business I need to attend to here." As soon as the words left his lips, people were fleeing the room, leaving Draco and Voldemort alone in a matter of seconds.

"Now boy, do you know why I have come?" The Dark Lord waved his wand and Draco's jaw stopped bleeding, but that didn't mean the excruciating pain went away. "Answer me boy."

Draco didn't respond but he wished he would have if he knew the next words out of the Dark Lord's mouth. He felt the crucio before he heard the spell.

Draco was knocked down from his sitting position on the ground. Body writhing in pain. He couldn't explain how it felt except torture. A million little needles were poking everywhere on his skin, leaving him screaming and convulsing on the cold marble. When Voldemort lifted the curse, Draco still writhed on the floor, the pain his body had experienced was too much for such a young person. "I said answer me."

"I-I don't know sir," Draco could barely make out, for his body was going into shock. The last thing he saw before passing out was the Dark Lord's evil grin as he pointed his wand at Draco's arm.

___________

Harry woke up screaming as he usually did nowadays, but today was different. He hadn't dreamed about Voldemort, whom his nightmares usually consisted of. But of a different person, he couldn't quite place who it was though.

A small tingle went down his spine as his screams died down. His left arm was itchy, so itchy, his jaw hurt and his leg was in agony. What was going on?

"Ron," Harry said timidly, lifting the silencing spell that was in place so no one could hear him scream when he woke up from a nightmare. "Ron, wake up."

Ron lifted his head, "What is it mate? It's the middle of the night, go back to sleep."

Harry would have rolled his eyes if it weren't for the sheer agony his body was facing. "What happened last night? I- I didn't get hurt, did I?"

Ron shifted in bed. "I told you not to drink that pumpkin juice, Harry. Merlin knows you can't hold your liquor."

"Ron," Harry said quietly, for it hurt his jaw to talk. "Ron please. What happened?"

Ron sat up in his bed, his friend being vulnerable was not something he saw every day. "Nothing bad happened. Not really anyway. We were celebrating your birthday. Fred and George spiked the pumpkin juice. Nothing out of the ordinary happened."

"B-But," Harry was so very confused. Why was his body feeling like every inch of his skin was being penetrated by thousands of needles. "But Ron. Did I get hurt?"

"No mate. What are you on about? After gifts you were about to pass out from the liquor. We didn't do anything except for dinner." Ron studied him with a strange look on his face. "Mate, are you okay?"

Even though Harry wanted to say no, that he was in so much pain he just wanted to tear his hair out, he didn't. Maybe more sleep would help him. "Yeah, I'm fine Ron. Thanks. I was just, uh, wondering. That's all." Harry closed his eyes and heard Ron turn back over in his bed. Harry knew what he was feeling wasn't a hangover. He had taken a hangover potion before he passed out that previous night. So what was going on?

He finally decided to owl Hermione in the morning. Yes, He thought, That's a good plan. She has the answer for everything. So he closed his eyes that night, with a plan in his head, not knowing of the pain and suffering the seemingly harmless plan would bring him.

__________

"DRACO? DRACO WHERE ARE YOU?!" Draco heard someone wail from somewhere. He was still on the cold marble floor. Eyes too heavy to open for long periods of time.

"DRACO!" The voice was getting nearer until he heard a large creak, a big oak door being opened. Draco was easy to spot, for he was the only person in the room. The tables and decorations had magically disappeared.

"Draco?" The voice said again, though this time in shock rather than in search.

Draco realized he must look awful, for having to experience what he had the night before. "Draco? Are you okay?" His mother called from a few feet away. Draco tried to stand, but then remembered his leg and collapsed on the ground, his elbow starting to bleed from the impact.

"Draco. Please don't," his mother looked away, most likely to dry her tears. "Here. Let me help you." She grabbed Draco's shoulders and slowly helped him up, him leaning his full body weight on her in hopes he wouldn't fall again.

"Thank you," he tried to say, but his jaw was in agony. He touched it which set off the pain in his elbow, which caused him to shake, making his leg throb, which set off a chain reaction of the crucio he experienced. His knees buckled, but his mother still held him up. He half limped, half dragged to the nearest wall. His mother conjured a chair, which he then collapsed on.

He glanced at the blood stained wall, seeing his reflection in the gold. His face was red, dripping blood still. Giant gashes stretched from his chin, down his neck and under his shirt. Bruises covered all of his open skin, and probably on his clothed skin as well. His ankle was bent around in a way that couldn't be good and the holes in his pant leg showed skin leaking red.

But none of that concerned him.

Nothing on his entire body was as bad at what was on his left arm. The searing pain was still there, but he couldn't feel it. The only thing that mattered was his new tattoo.

Draco was marked.


	3. Chapter 3

TW

The next day, Harry's mysterious pain finally died down. Well, except for the throbbing in his left arm. That remained and didn't seem to be going away anytime soon.

Harry learned to ignore it after a few days, though he found if he moved it too much, the sharp shooting pain would return. This happened more often than he would like. The Weasleys were giving him weird looks for his sudden loss of interest in playing quidditch, and Harry didn't want to say it was because of a pain in his arm that he didn't cause.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked as they headed down for breakfast.

"Peachy," Harry snapped back. He hadn't meant to be rude, but his arm felt like it was being ripped apart.

"Hmm. You look ill. Is it because of your," Ron lowered his voice, for he was the only one in the house who knew about the state of his arm, "arm?"

"No, it's my big toe."

His eyes widened in concern.

"Of course it's my arm, Ron! What do you think?"

"Mate, you should really tell someone. You know I'm not good with healing spells and stuff and I hate seeing you in pain."

"I'm fine, Ron. Believe me." Harry put on a strained smile that looked as forced as it felt.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Okay. But don't come complaining to me when your arm gets worse."

Harry was quiet as they sat down at the table. Was his arm going to get worse? Could it? It felt like someone took a white-hot knife and pierced his left forearm.

He was shaken from his thoughts when there was a knock on the door. Wait, knock on the door? Who doesn't use floo powder? Harry peered into the next room from his seat. His curiosity was resolved when Molly opened the door, "Hermione!"

Ron's face lit up, and he looked like he was about to sprint to the door when Harry caught his gaze and gave him a confused expression. If Harry didn't know better, he would've thought Ron fancied Hermione.

Ron settled back into his seat, a grin still plastered on his face. "Harry! Ron! How are you?" Hermione asked as she put down her bags and took a seat at the table.

"Amazing 'Mione. And you?" Ron scooted his chair slightly closer to Harry, bumping into Harry's left arm. Harry let out a howl of pain. "Bloody hell, mate. Are you alright?"

"I'm. Just. Fine," Harry said through his teeth, hoping to not show the pain on his face.

Hermione's smile fell. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing Hermione. Trust me, I'm just," Harry swallowed, "overreacting I guess." He tried to smile, he really did, but Hermione saw right through it. She gave him a glance that said, we are talking about this later.

Soon enough, Molly came through with a tower of pancakes.

"Mum, this is enough pancakes to feed a quidditch team," Ron said chuckling as he dug in.

Molly laughed as she took off her apron, "Well there are more mouths to feed." She gestured towards Hermione.

Hermione gave a sheepish smile and turned towards her breakfast.

Harry grabbed a plate, but in doing so, he strained his arm. He shrieked, grasping his left arm with his right.

"Harry!" Hermione jumped in surprise. She grabbed Harry's right arm and dragged him into a different room. "Harry, what's going on?"

Harry was backing away into the nearest wall, clutching his left forearm, slowly sliding down and sitting on the floor.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. Harry's eyes started to burn, hot tears spilling from unopened eyes.

Hermione quickly casted a silencing charm before sitting down and embracing him.

__________

Draco needed a hug.

Too bad his whole family seemed to be incapable of showing affection. All he wanted was his parents to wrap him in their arms and tell him they were proud and loved him.

Draco almost laughed at the thought. Imagine. My father, hugging me. How proprosterious. He rolled his eyes as tears leaked out.

He picked up the quill he had hidden in his dresser drawer.

__________

Harry cried in pain as a burning started in his thighs. He felt like he was being sliced open.

He leaned into Hermione. He didn't know how long they were there for, but he presumed it had been quite a while judging from the glare of the sun.

"Harry, I almost had you calm. What happened?" Hermione pulled away from the hug. She put a hand on Harry's thigh and he screamed louder than he had before. Hermione immediately drew back her hand.

"Harry?" She wiped a tear from his face. "Harry please, are you alright? What's going on?"

Harry's screams died down, hiccupping as tears still rolled down his face. He was grateful Hermione didn't leave him, he was acting like a mad man, crying for absolutely no reason. But there was a reason, there had to be. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Harry. Now would you please tell me what's wrong?" She gave him a small, reassuring smile.

"I-I'm not sure," Harry confessed, talking in between hiccups. "My arm, my legs. I don't know, Hermione. Am I going crazy?"

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm a little lost."

"M-My left fore-" He winced in pain as Hermione touched his arm, "left forearm."

Hermione ran her finger over the skin and pulled out her wand. She waved it a few times, doing some fancy spell she probably read up upon recently. "Does that feel better?"

"No. H-Hermione, what's going on?"

"Wait, you don't even know? How peculiar. I'll read up on this and let you know," and she left, murmuring something that Harry couldn't fully hear.

Harry stayed for a while longer before taking off the silencing spell, wiping his eyes with the bottom of his shirt, and making his way to the bedroom he shared with Ron, receiving odd looks from several Weasleys as he passed.

In the safety of his room, he locked the door and collapsed onto the bed.

"Harry, you alright mate?"

Harry jumped, thinking he was alone. "Merlin, Ron. You almost gave me a heart attack."

"'Mione's worried. Really worried. She thinks you're broken."

"I'm not broken. Stop being stupid."

"I'm not joking. Her theory is bonke-"

"Alohamora," Hermione entered the room. "Harry I found something that might help. Here read this."

She passed a book along to Harry, sitting beside him on the bed. "Chapter Four."

Harry took the book graciously and opened to Chapter Four. "Hermione, I'm afraid I don't understand. It's titled 'Bonding.'"

"Just read it, trust me."

Harry found he could always trust Hermione. He sighed and started reading.

Bonding is a term meaning the linking of two minds. If your mind is bonded with another, said mind is your soulmate's mind.

"Soulmates..."

However, bonding very rarely occurs, for the bonding process is very complex. Bonding happens naturally when two soulmates have met before the age of sixteen. Though, the sooner they meet, the more likely the bonding procedure will take place. If this is the case, the bonding will happen when you reach the age of sixteen. However, bonding does not occur in all soulmates, so do not expect to feel any different when you turn sixteen.

Bonding with someone means that you can share magic with one another. Although, this also means that you share each other's pain.

Harry slammed the book shut. "This is it," he got up excitedly. "This is why I've been feeling this," he gestured wildly to his arm. "It makes sense! My birthday was the day I started feeling this pain. 'Mione! It's soulmates!"

"Yes, I know Harry, but-" She was cut off by a drawer slamming shut. "Harry what are you doing?" She looked at him accusingly.

"Nothing, nothing. Just want to check something out is all. Continue."

"What I was going to say was that it's still very dangero- HARRY WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT ENVELOPE OPENER?!"

Harry took the envelope opener and dragged the tip across the scar that read I must not tell lies on his hand, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make his hand ache.

"HARRY WHAT ARE YOU DOING? ARE YOU STUPID? WHY WOULD YOU EVER DO THAT?!"

"Relax 'Mione. Do you reckon she felt that? I bet she felt that, that hurt bad."

Ron was sitting very quietly on his bed, not wanting to insert himself in the argument, a mad Hermione was a scary Hermione.

"I'm sure she felt that you idiot! She'll feel it when you cut your hand off, give me that," She snatched the tool from Harry's hand.

"Sorry, I-I don't know why I did that. I wouldn't want to hurt her," Harry gave an embarrassed smile. "Impulses, ya know?" He shrugged and sat down on the bed.

"No, I do not know, Harry. My first thought wouldn't be to slice open my hand and dream that my soulmate felt it. I'm not insane."

"Oh, come off it, 'Mione. This is exciting," Ron spoke up finally.

"Ronald Weasley," Hermione huffed.

"'Mione-"

"You think that this is exciting?" She waved the envelope opener in her hand. "Slicing his hand open as an experiment?!"

"I didn't even break skin, calm down."

"No!" She whipped her head back to face Harry. "Harry, this is dangerous. As you can already tell. I don't want you getting hurt, especially with..." she trailed off as they all remembered what had happened that previous year.

The Department of Mysteries. The battle. The death of a Godfather.

"What I meant was, be careful Harry."

"I will. Thank you, Hermione."

Hermione gave a small smile and quietly exited the room.

__________

Draco was in the library of the Malfoy Manor when it happened. He wasn't sure what had happened though. Like a knife scraping at his skin, his hand started to burn.

He dropped the book he was holding, clutching at his hand. It was bad enough the Dark Mark still throbbed, but a random pain in his hand too?

Why me? Still clutching his hand, he ran to the safety of his room. He locked the door and sat on his bed, willing his eyes to hold back the tears. Malfoy men don't cry. Malfoy men don't cry. Malfoy men don't cry. Malfoy men don't cry. Malfoy men don't cry. Malfoy men don't cry. It was no use. Tears leaked out, sliding down his smooth cheek.

He tried wiping them away, but they fell from his eyes faster than he could stop them. Why couldn't his life be more normal? Like Potter's? He almost laughed at that one. Potter- normal? Never in his life would he use that term to describe him.

Wait- then why did he think of Potter in the first place?

He concluded that everything that was going on in his life was too much handle and he was actually losing his mind.

Sniffling, he looked at his aching hand. What was wrong with him?

__________

"Hey, Ron," Harry said slyly. "Do you reckon she'll respond if I send her a letter?"

"I can't be sure, I mean it's only her soulmate," was Ron's sarcastic response.

"But that's exactly it. I don't want to scare her away, ya know?" Harry picked at the loose thread on the bottom of his shirt. "I mean, soulmates. That's a big concept."

"Mate, I say you do it. It doesn't hurt to try."

"I guess," Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and his quill.

He sat there for a few seconds, quill hovering over the parchment, unsure of what to say. What do you write to your soulmate?

He thought some more before jotting down whatever came to his mind. However, he was a little stuck on what to write on the envelope, for he didn't know to whom he was writing. He decided to write the word "soulmate" before folding the letter, sticking it in the envelope and giving it to Hedwig. He prayed that the magic the owl system possessed would be enough to deliver the letter to the right person.

__________

Draco awoke from a tapping on his bedroom window. He cast a Tempus and saw that it was only three in the afternoon. When had he fallen asleep?

The tapping started again and he found it came from an owl, one he'd never seen before. "Peculiar," he whispered.

He opened his window to let the owl in, but the owl just dropped the letter and left. Draco was taken aback by its sudden rudeness but didn't say anything about it. But the real shock came when he read who the letter was addressed to: soulmate.

Soulmate? Was this his? Did he actually have a soulmate? He tore open the envelope, and pulled out the letter.

Hiyo,

I'm not going to lie, I have no idea what to say. I'm just going to be straightforward with you. For the past week or so my left foreman has been in pain. Why? I wasn't sure until my friend showed me a book about Bonding. Bonding is when your soulmates mind and yours is connected. It also means that you can feel the pain of your soulmate. I assume that my arm pain is actually a reciprocal of yours or else I will be very embarrassed writing this letter.

P.S. Sorry about your hand, that was my fault.

There was no name on the bottom of the parchment. Draco dropped his paper to the floor. He'd read about bonding before, but it was so rare he'd never thought it would actually happen to him.

He had a soulmate. His mind couldn't process the fact that he had a soulmate, that he was bonded to nonetheless, and that soulmate had written him a letter.

Maybe his day was brightening up after all.

However, he didn't know that if he could go back in time to this moment, he wouldn't have let the strange owl in. But he had, and along with it brought the extreme consequences.


	4. Chapter 4

TW (towards the end of the chapter)

"Harry, why are you holding your head? Is it your scar?" came a worried voice from the other side of the room.

"Ron, why are you awake? It's five in the morning."

"Well, I did hear you talking, very loudly in your sleep," Ron grumbled but immediately went back to worrying when Harry winced again. "Mate, if it's your scar you should really tell me."

"I-It's not my scar. At least I don't think it is. My head it- ow!" Harry pressed his palms to his forehead, willing the pain to go away. "It's like someone's trying to squeeze into my brain."

Ron turned a ghostly pale. "Is it like last year?" he whispered so quietly it was a miracle that he was even heard by Harry.

Harry leant forward, head almost reaching his lap. "It's not," Harry winced, trying not to think of Sirius. "It's more like- woah."

Harry looked up, dreamy eyed with a glazed expression on his face.

"Bloody hell, did you get hexed?" Ron shuffled out of his bed.

"Ron, who is here that could've hexed me? It's only us in this room."

"Still," Ron said approaching Harry's bed, "you look weird."

"Gee, thanks."

"No problem."

Harry rolled his eyes. "There was an apple."

"Harry, should I be worried?"

"An apple. Or a picture of an apple, rather."

"Do we need to check you into St. Mungo's?"

"It squeezed it's way into my head. As if someone put it there."

"I'm getting 'Mione," Ron quickly left, only to come back a few minutes later with a very grumpy looking Hermione.

"Ronald, do you know what time it is?"

"'Mione! Did I tell you about the apple?"

Hermione grunted in response and sat on the edge of Harry's bed.

"It felt so strange. One minute, my head was in pain, and then the next, an apple!"

"Harry, don't make me question your sanity again," she replied.

"I'm being serious, I swear. It's as if someone shoved it into my mind."

Hermione perked up at that. "OhmyGodHarryIknowwhat'sgoingon!"

"Huh?"

"It's the bond!"

"I thought the bond was for sharing magic," Ron asked, now sitting on his own bed.

"Well it is," Hermione explained, "but it also connects the minds, remember?"

"No, I never actually read what you showed Harry."

"Oh," Hermione flicked her wand, and a book flew from the bookshelf and settled into Ron's lap.

"Godric's sake, 'Mione, I wasn't complaining," Ron huffed. He shoved the book farther down the bed, a face traced with disgust.

"Oh come off it, I know you're not illiterate, you have to read sometimes."

Ron grumbled something, and turned away.

"There it is! Another granny smith!"

Hermione gave Harry a small smile, that looked pained from his idiocy. "Yes, Harry. Apples."

"So, it's my soulmate? She's thinking about apples?"

"Well, she must be thinking of them a lot," Hermione furrowed her brows as she spoke, "the thought has to be really strong for it to carry on to you."

"She must really like apples, I guess," He smirked. "You know what I thought of? Malfoy, and how he's always eating apples."

"Must you bring up Malfoy when we're in the middle of discussing your love life."

They both startled as an owl started tapping on the bedroom window. "Hell, who would send a letter this late?"

He opened the window to see an owl he'd never seen before. It looked very pristine and regal, eating a treat before flying off into the night.

When Harry saw who the letter was addressed to, he almost dropped it in shock. Yes, he had expected his soulmate to respond, but not so quickly. He ripped open the letter.

Hello,

Wow, soulmates. That's so weird to think about, how our minds are connected. I read about bonding earlier in the summer, though I never thought it would happen to me.

That was all that was written on the parchment. Although, there was a trail of ink after, probably to write more. Why hadn't she written more then? The letter wasn't signed, but neither was his, so he couldn't complain.

Harry heard soft breathing from the other side of the room, "I think Ron's asleep," he whispered.

Hermione nodded her head and silently left the room.

__________

This continued for days, writing letters back and forth, Harry's always starting with the undesirable "hiyo," though his soulmate has told him how much she didn't approve of such informal language.

Occasionally, Harry's head exploded in pain as a thought was squeezed into his brain.

The throbbing in his arm had died down, leaving a dull reminder that he had found his soulmate.

__________

Draco found his only escape was the letters. The letters written from someone who he hoped would soon be his. Though he did find it a bit disappointing that she'd never signed her name; but being the petty boy he was, he didn't sign his name either.

When things at the manor got too much, he knew he could always open up an old letter and feel an explosion of happy feelings in his stomach.

Being a Death Eater was hard, constantly living with the fact that he, Draco Malfoy, was serving the Dark Lord.

Draco couldn't bear to look at his arm, always keeping the mark covered with the sleeve of his shirt. He stopped eating, stopped leaving his room unless for a meeting.

These meetings were mandatory, but for Draco personally, hadn't been a great deal too bad, for he was never talked to or mentioned in them.

After a particularly bad one, in which it was decided that the Dark Lord would stay at the Malfoy Manor, Draco ran to his letters for comfort. Where had he put them? It had been a rush the last time he looked at them, almost getting caught by his mother.

He rummaged through drawers with no avail, but a light tickle on his hand made him freeze. The quill. Memories came rushing back, about the first time he'd used that quill, and all the rest that followed.

He shut his eyes tight, trying not to give into the temptation. It would be so easy to just grab it, to- He shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking these thoughts.

But he couldn't help it, and he picked up the quill.

__________

"Merlin, what the hell!" Harry screamed.

"What?" Everyone around the dinner table looked at him, alarmed.

Harry shot a look at Ron and he understood immediately. "Harry's feeling unwell, I'll take him to our room."

Molly nodded with wide eyes and Ron helped Harry out of his seat, and up the set of stairs, Harry wincing at every step he took.

As soon as they got to their room, Harry collapsed on his bed, Ron casting locking and silencing charms.

"This has happened too many times for it to be an accident."

Ron looked at him, confusion easily read on his face.

"Ron, my thighs. I think they're doing it to themselves."


	5. Chapter 5

When weeks passed without a single reply from his soulmate, Harry grew nervous. He knew his soulmate was having a hard time, but they had started to become friends, hadn't they?

Harry sighed as he pushed his dinner away from him, "I'm not hungry," he grumbled before trudging to his room.

Finally, locked safely in his room, he had time to think. He sat on his bed, legs curled up, tucked into his chest. What had happened?

His head ached a thought popped in. He started, having not experienced that in a while. A- What was that?- No, it couldn't be- Harry tried to think back to the thought, having only been a flash in his mind. Was it really?

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, absentmindedly scratching his leg where the burning sensation still took place; almost every other day, if he remembered correctly.

He finally shook himself free of his thoughts that consumed him every moment of every day. This really was dangerous.

A shower and a change into his night clothes seemed to help him focus on other things. But as he settled down into his bed, Ron haven come up sometime whilst he was showering, a trickle of anxiety was felt by the tingle in his spine.

He couldn't help but think back to what he wrote at the end of his last letter:

I can't help but to think that I could fall for you. I'd like to meet you, to know who you are. When school starts again, let's meet on the Hogwarts Express, the last compartment about a half hour into the ride.

Love,

H

Having been caught up in the moment, Harry almost signed the letter; but quickly crossed it out when he realized what he had done.

However, two weeks later and he still had no response. Whether that meant they were meeting or not, Harry couldn't decide.

He shut his eyes tight, worrying for tomorrow. Worrying what the new year would bring, and whom it would bring.

He sighed and heard Ron's soft snores from the opposite side of the room. He smiled to himself. He could do this.

__________

He couldn't do this.

Draco remembered he sat straight up when he heard his name being called. It was a good day, a happy one. The first of its kind in quite a while.

He remembered the sun peaking through the trees, waking up the Earth, signaling a new day. He remembered his house elf bringing him his breakfast in bed, staying in his night clothes throughout the morning, which was a rare luxury.

He remembered walking downstairs to see a very frantic mother. He remembered her spelling him into his nicest outfit. He remembered being all but shoved into the meeting room. He remembered the look the Dark Lord had on his face when he gave him his first task. And he remembered that clear as day.

He had to kill his headmaster.

__________

Harry couldn't remember why they were running so late. He supposed it was Ron's sleeping in, or Hermione realizing all her books didn't fit into her trunk.

"Let's go," he whined, "we're going to miss the train."

Ron rolled his eyes as they walked onto Kings Cross. "We still have five minutes 'till the train leaves."

"Five minutes!" Hermione shrieked. "Merlin, we're going to miss the train, then we can't go to Hogwarts, then we'll be behind everyone, and then we won't get a good job to support ourselves and we're going to be living on the streets!"

Harry and Ron both rolled their eyes, familiar to Hermione's antics, before running through the brick wall between Platforms 9 and 10.

The world flashed around them before dissolving to show the ever happy sight of the Hogwarts Express.

"We've got two minutes, let's go."

That's how they ended up getting on the train approximately thirty seconds before it left for Hogwarts, Hermione following close behind.

They all sat down in the first empty compartment they saw, breathing heavy.

"For a second there," Hermione wheezed, "I didn't think we were going to make it."

"Godric, 'Mione. You make it sound like we were almost killed."

She shot him a stern look, and crossed her arms.

While this happy quarrel was going on, Harry couldn't help but to be distracted. His soulmate had not responded to his letter in which he asked to meet. What does that mean? Should he go? Should he not?

Harry finally resolved his inner battle when he mumbled, "I have to use the loo."

Hermione nodded as he scurried out of the room, to the end of the train, the last compartment. He could feel the anxiety running through his veins twirling inside him. Could he do this? Did he have the guts? He had to remind himself that he defeated Voldemort, he could simply meet another person. But this was his soulmate. His forever, technically.

He finally made it to the compartment and took a deep breath before opening the door. When he saw who was inside, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Malfoy, move compartments. I need this one."

Malfoy sneered. "No, you don't. Find your own, Potter."

Being the stubborn brat he was, Harry sat down on the bench opposite of the sneering boy.

"Wha-" Malfoy's eyes widened then narrowed when he realized Harry wouldn't be moving. He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Why do you need my compartment so bad, Potter," he spat.

"I need to meet someone," he said coolly, albeit glaring at the boy opposite him.

Malfoy hmphed, "Well, so do I. And it's important, so get lost."

"Should've chosen a different compartment then. You get lost."

"Shut up, Potter! Is that all you can do? Annoy people? It's curious how you even have friends." Malfoy said this with malice, though Harry saw he fiddling with the bottom of his shirt, bouncing his leg, and slightly biting his lip.

Harry furrowed his brows, but remained silent.

A few minutes later, and no one had shown up, for either of them. It had been well over half an hour, Harry haven been late himself, and he grew more worried by the minute. What if they had not received his letter? What if he was sitting in this compartment with Malfoy for nothing?

Harry glanced at Malfoy and took in his worried demeanor again. Harry concluded that whoever Malfoy was meeting, they must be important.

"Who're you meeting?" couldn't help but slip out of Harry's mouth.

Malfoy's eyes widened, "I don't see how it's any of your business."

Though after saying that, Malfoy slowly took a piece of parchment out of his pocket, and almost to himself said, "I don't understand. I was early. It specifically says, 'When school starts again, let's meet on the Hogwarts Express, the last compartment about a half hour into the ride.'"

Harry's eyes widened with realization. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Not Malfoy. Anyone but Malfoy! "Malfoy, I have some news," he croaked, his throat suddenly dry. "They came."

Malfoy peered out the door, "I don't see anyone." His eyes narrowed in confusion and glared at Harry.

Harry gestured to himself, "You sure?"

"What game are you trying to play, Potter?" Malfoy still confused.

Though, Harry could pinpoint the exact moment when it dawned on him. Malfoy's eyes went wide, his leg that had previously been bouncing froze, and he started continuously biting the inside of his cheek.

Wow, he must be angry, my cheek hurts like hell. When it got too much, Harry exclaimed, "Would you stop that? You're hurting my cheek for Merlin's sake!"

Malfoy froze in his seat. "No," he all but whispered. "No, I don't believe it. It can't be. What the hell, Potter? Is this some sort of joke to you?"

"I don't know about you, Malfoy. But I didn't know who I'd been writing to."

Malfoy furrowed his eyebrows, he muttered something to himself.

"Louder, Malfoy."

Malfoy glared at him, "I wasn't talking to you."

Harry stared right into Malfoy's eyes, "I said, louder, Malfoy."

Malfoy scowled but soon repeated, "'I can't help but to think that I could fall for you.' From, your," Malfoy winced as though saying that it was Harry to whom he'd been writing would make it true, "letters."

A dark blush slowly crept across Harry's face. "I-I didn't know it was you. I wouldn't have said it."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, but slowly turned into a look of panic when Harry scratched his thighs. "You know, then." Malfoy cleared his throat.

"Know what?"

"About me."

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

Malfoy sighed and leaned further back in his seat, "You know. You know that I-" he gestured towards his legs.

Harry's eyes widened, having forgotten everything that he associated with his soulmate, he had to now associate with Malfoy. "Malfoy, I didn't realize things were so bad at home."

"Shut it," Malfoy stood and walked towards the door, "don't tell anyone or I'll have your head."

__________

Draco didn't want to admit it, but the reason he left was not because Potter had annoyed him, which he had. But he left because he didn't want Potter to see the tears that were now spilling down his face.

Someone knew. His soulmate knew. Potter knew. His sworn enemy. Potter. It's always his fault. Everything that happened. Everything! "Potter," he growled.

The only memories he had of the boy were bad ones, nasty ones. Fighting, dueling, shouting, taunting.

But there were new memories now. The letters being his only escape. Writing when he couldn't deal with his life anymore. 'I can't help but to think that I could fall for you.' 'Love, H' 'Love, H' 'Love, H' 'Love,' 'Love' Love. Love? Love?! No, no, no, no, no! Not love! Why's he have to write love? Did he love- Draco gagged at the thought. Potter loving him.

He imagined Potter's touch, what it would feel like, strong perhaps. What would lips taste like? Treacle Tart? His favorite dessert. Draco zoned out, thinking of waking up every day next to Potter. His soulmate. Merlin, why did Potter have to be his soulmate?

It didn't help that Draco had been thinking of boys in that way, having harbored a crush on one Zacharias Smith for quite a while now. Though Zach was a Hufflepuff, that could never work.

Draco was still in the hallway of the train, walking away from the compartment that held his soulmate when his whole right arm went numb. What? Maybe he had bumped into something, right? Maybe- His thought was cut off when the numbness traveled further towards his chest, now leaving his shoulder completely useless.

He collapsed to the ground, as the numb feeling kept working it's way to his chest. He was finding it hard to breathe. What was happening?

Just as soon as he thought the numb feelings would cover his throat, it disappeared.

He heard footsteps behind him, and Draco turned on his back to see who it was.

"Malfoy," Potter said in a panicky voice. "We have a problem."


	6. Chapter 6

Draco couldn't breathe. It was happening again. The numbness that started in his arm and traveled to his throat, constricting it. "What the hell?" he rasped out.

It was later the same day that they had traveled to Hogwarts, and he found out Harry was his soulmate. But he tried not to think about that part. He was with Blaise in the Slytherin common room.

The numbness spread further, almost covering his entire throat.

"You okay?" Blaise asked from the couch.

Draco couldn't talk. When he tried to, it came out as a raspy cough.

"What in Salazar's name is wrong with you?" Blaise hurried over to Draco and wrapped his arm around Draco's waist, balancing him. "I'm taking you to Madame Pomfrey."

__________

"Not five hours into the school year, and you are already here, Potter?" Madame Pomfrey said with slight amusement in her voice.

Harry would have laughed if he could, but there was a numb feeling slowly enwrapping his throat, making him unable to breathe properly.

"Well, sit down then. What seems to be the issue?"

Harry collapsed on the closest bed, clawing at his throat, praying for the numbness to go away.

"Potter, you have to talk otherwise I won't know what's bothering you."

Harry pointed to his throat.

She frowned and performed a few spells on him. "Oh my. Why are there two- Oh Merlin." She shook her head. "I've never seen this before. I mean, I've read about it, but to see it with my own eyes."

Harry gave her a confused expression. Why was she acting so strange?

"Stay here. I'm going to go see if I can find something for your throat."

He nodded. As she left the numbness abruptly went away. Huh?

A few seconds later, Zabini and Malfoy stepped in the room, talking.

"I don't know what happened, Blaise. All of a sudden it just poof," he mimicked an explosion with his hands, "went away."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Malfoy turned, realizing now they had an audience. "Potter," he nodded.

"Malfoy," Harry nodded back. If they really were soulmates, might as well be civil with each other. "Does Zabini-"

"No," Malfoy quickly cut him off.

Harry nodded and turned on his side.

"Does Zabini what?" Zabini asked.

"Nothing. It's not very important," was Malfoy's reply.

"Not important my arse," Harry muttered.

"What was that?" said a shrill voice.

"Nothing!" Harry said quickly as Madame Pomfrey approached.

"You seem better, but that's impossible. It only goes away when-" She noticed the two other boys in the room. "Zabini?"

Harry slowly shook his.

"But it couldn't be Malfoy?" She was taken aback. "You two have been fighting for years."

Harry blushed slightly and sat up, looking at a very confused Zabini and a very embarrassed Malfoy.

"It's not like we asked for this to happen," Malfoy sneered.

"Draco," Zabini asked tentatively, "what's going on?"

Malfoy just shook his head and walked over to Madame Pomfrey.

"Is it the bond?" Malfoy asked so quietly, Harry could barely hear him.

"I'm afraid so," Madame Pomfrey replied, still drinking in the notion of a Malfoy and a Potter being soulmates.

"Can someone explain what's going on?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, some of us are confused," Zabini chimed in, still standing by the door.

Madame Pomfrey sighed and shook her head, "It's almost dinner, you best be off Zabini. Malfoy, Potter, stay for a few minutes if you will."

Zabini furrowed his eyebrows, looking very displeased, but left nonetheless.

Malfoy sat at the edge of Harry's bed, almost touching his feet. Harry huffed and sat up straight, wanting to be as fair away from Malfoy as possible.

"Boys," Madame Pomfrey started, addressing them, "you two are very special. Many would kill to be in the situation you are in now."

Malfoy scoffed and Pomfrey shot him a stern look.

"You two are bonded. In simpler terms, you are soulmates who can share magic. Now, sharing magic is a different level, and you need to work the bond up to that stage. You, obviously, are not there yet. It sometimes takes years, even decades for soulmates to reach the stage of sharing magic. For now, you share a gravitational pull. This pull represents the magic that will soon be shared between you. Once you learn how to share magic, the pull will be replaced by that magic. Make sense so far?"

The two boys nodded and Madame Pomfrey continued.

"A side effect of this pull is feeling one another's pain. Well, more an echo of the pain, not the full force."

Harry gulped and thought about the times he had to rush to his room in the Burrow, sobbing into his pillow as his legs were being slashed apart. If that was only an echo-

"The bond also senses chemistry."

Malfoy straightened at this.

"When there is a high amount of chemistry between two soulmates, the pull becomes smaller. In other words, the numbness you were feeling is the bond wanting you to be closer together. The pull can be as large as fifteen feet and as small as three inches. You were able to survive the summer apart, because you haven't met up in person. Meaning, there was no chemistry to be detected."

Harry glanced at Malfoy, and took his wide eyes, his expression of fear. Harry felt his own fear creep inside of him, coiling inside his stomach. They'd have to be in the same room as one another for Merlin knows how long.

"Understand, boys?"

They both nodded, though horror was evident on their faces.

Pomfrey sighed, "Off to dinner, then."

__________

Dinner went by without anything disastrous, and Draco was now wandering the halls, looking for his supposed soulmate.

His hand was starting to go numb and he cursed under his breath.

He turned down a few more hallways, the numbing going away abruptly, leaving him feeling a mix of relief and annoyance that he was now in the company of Potter.

"Malfoy? That you?"

Draco gritted his teeth and turned around, seeing a shadow at the end of the hall.

"Potter?"

"Yeah."

Draco sighed and walked up to him. "Know where we're sleeping tonight?"

Potter's eyes widened and a look of horror flashed across his face. "I haven't thought of that. You think- You think we'd have to sleep together?"

"Well, obviously, Potter," Draco rolled his eyes, "we can't be more than fifteen feet apart, remember?"

Potter gulped and looked away sheepishly.

"C'mon, we're going to Slytherin."

"W-What?"

"You heard me, Potter."

Potter nodded and followed Draco as he led the way to the Slytherin dorms.

Once there, his steps grew smaller and smaller, inching forward, not wanting the time spent alone with Potter in his dorm to come anytime soon.

"Malfoy, walk faster. I'm tripping over your heels," Potter huffed.

Draco nodded slowly and began walking to his room.

"Woah, you get your own room?" Potter asked, surprised.

"Yeah, don't you?" Draco snorted.

"Well, no," Potter admitted and Draco snorted.

Draco walked across the room, suddenly his entire right arm going numb. "The hell?" He took a few steps back, but that wasn't enough for the bond to leave him alone. He turned around and walked straight at Potter, one foot from the other boy before the numbness went again.

"Well. This is comfortable," Potter tried smiling, but it came out as more of a grimace.

Draco gritted his teeth. "What. The. Hell. Is. This? I can't even- I can't even move! You're right on top of me!"

"Not my fault, Malfoy," Potter replied, putting his hands up.

Draco scoffed and grabbed Potter's forearm, pulling him along to the other side of the room to finish unpacking his trunk.

Potter sat down on the edge of his bed and watched as Draco took out piece after piece of neatly folded clothing. When Draco reached the bottom of his trunk, he froze.

He had forgotten he packed that. Feelings rushed back into him of all the times he's used that before. He forgot how to breathe and didn't even realize what he was doing when he turned to face Potter, letting his head drop onto the other boy's shoulder.

Potter froze, but Draco didn't notice. He didn't notice when the shirt covering Potter's shoulder became soaked with silent tears.

__________

Harry didn't know what to do when Malfoy placed his head on his shoulder. They have never been this close before without hurting each other.

Harry senses told him to rub the other boy's back, to comfort him. But this was Malfoy. So, Harry just stayed very still until Malfoy stopped.

His shirt was now sticking to his skin where Malfoy's head was, pressing wet cloth to his skin. Was Malfoy crying? Harry sucked in a breath, much louder than he had anticipated and Malfoy jolted, lifted his head, turning away, embarrassed.

"Malfoy-" Harry started, but Malfoy didn't let him finish. He jumped up, rubbing his eyes and said something Harry couldn't make out before running to the bathroom.

Harry gasped as the numb feeling held his arm working its way to his throat faster than ever before. When it became too much for Harry to handle, he got up and rapped lightly on the bathroom door. "I'm coming in. You decent, Malfoy?" Harry choked out.

Harry heard a small 'yes' before throwing open the door and collapsing in front of the other boy, gasping for air.

Malfoy stood in the front of the sink, his eyes wide.

"What the hell, Malfoy!" Harry finally said, standing up. "Did you just forget about the bond?"

"No, it's just," Malfoy looked like he had a hard time coming up with the right words. "I don't know."

"Brilliant," Harry said sarcastically.

Malfoy rolled his eyes before saying, "I need a shower."

Harry's eyes widened before slowly saying, "Malfoy? How are you supposed to shower?"

Malfoy looked confused for a few seconds before understanding, and a look of terror held his face. "I- I'm not sure."

Harry took an experimental step back, his fingers started to lose feeling. He sighed and stepped back towards Malfoy, only standing a few inches away from him.

"You know what, Potter? I think it's actually okay. I- I don't need to shower right now," was Malfoy's frantic response.

Showering with Malfoy? Harry shuddered at the thought. Standing next to him at all times would be difficult enough.

"Yeah, you're right. We don't need a shower," he sniffed his shirt. "I smell great!" he said with fake enthusiasm. 

Malfoy snorted and walked out of the bathroom, Harry having to follow very close behind, grabbing his night clothes out of a drawer in his closet.

So, a quick accio for Harry's clothes and a few awkward glances away later, they were ready for bed.

"How- How close do we have to be?" Malfoy asked.

Harry took a few steps back. "Not that close, apparently."

Malfoy sighed in relief. "I'm left."

"Yes, your majesty."

"Shut it, Potter. I will hex you."

Harry just rolled his eyes and climbed into the right side of the small bed. He turned to face the wall and felt the mattress dip down slightly as Malfoy joined him, facing the same direction.

"If your body so much as touches mine, I swear to Merlin, Potter, you are dead. You hear me? Dead." Malfoy growled behind him.

Harry nodded, "Wouldn't dream of it."

And so, the two boys fell asleep, somehow waking up wrapped in each other's arms. Harry could almost pretend he enjoyed the warm feeling of Malfoy's strong body, cuddling (ew why did they have to be cuddling!), Harry's eyes shot open and he almost fell out of bed.

However, the bond didn't like this very much and Harry was forced to lay his head back on Malfoy's outstretched arm, tangling their legs together before falling back into unconsciousness.


End file.
